


the babysitter

by alicemitch09



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Awkward Peter Parker, But not that much, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Major Spoilers Ahead, Oblivious Reader, Peter Parker has a crush on reader, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Bucky Barnes, Reader-Insert, Romance, Shy Peter Parker, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29151825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicemitch09/pseuds/alicemitch09
Summary: Babysitting the little Stark is an adventure, of some sorts. Well, being a (adopted) Stark is an adventure in itself. However, nobody told Peter Parker about the Stark babysitter.
Relationships: Morgan Stark & Reader, Pepper Potts & Reader, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark, Peter Parker/Reader, Tony Stark & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	the babysitter

**Author's Note:**

> I love Morgan Stark. I would die for her. Kill for her. MURDER even, just to keep her safe. Also, I love how easy we can just make her and Peter come together because they’re Stark’s kids (one biological, one is a sort of surrogate). Also, this idea is a common trope but eh, what’s not to love about it? Had to tweak it a bit by making reader two years older.  
> And yay, I finally got to finish this before its initial release date (which is on Valentine's haha sorry yes am cliche like that sue me).  
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot.

"Ah, shit."

"Shit!"

You froze, quickly turning on your heel to find a mass of brown hair and big brown doe-like eyes, filled with innocence and mischief all at once.

"Morgan! What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," she replied easily, tilting her head to the side. "Mommy said she has something to say to you."

"Oh, really now?" releasing a breath - not really shaky but something sort of relief, frustration, and a little bit of nervousness, you kneel to her level, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. "How long have you been looking for me?"

"A few minutes. Maybe 30."

With a smile, you get up. "Well, best not keep her waiting!"

Morgan giggles, seeing through you. She was always too sharp for her age.

You smile with her, a painful tug at your heart when you see the twinkle in her eye - _an all too familiar twinkle_.

Swallowing the dread, you plaster a quick smile and get to your feet. "Come on now, munchkin!"

She willingly lets you take her in your arms, walking along the compound down to Mrs. Stark's office.

...

Your relationship with the infamous CEO of Stark Industries was that you’re her cousin's daughter, making her your aunt-in-law. And in the absence of said cousin - your father, as he lived far off or on the other side of the planet, and after some unfortunate events, you were under Pepper's care. 

Well, at least for the last 8 years of your life.

And since then, you could always remember how uptight, stern, and organized she was. It came with her job apparently. As was being stressed 24/7 because she had been dealing with the one and only Iron Man, Tony Stark.

Pepper had a great way of dealing with things, keeping some things to a T, and to keep a cool head with it all. Also, she was adamant about keeping you from Tony, away from the epitome of a machine of a man that he was. Oh, many were the nights where you were a witness to just how frustrating the man was, to how much Pepper had to keep herself from breaking down. You were not very fond of him – to say the least, you kinda hated him.

But upon meeting the man, later on, you found that he wasn't all that bad. In fact, he reminded you a lot of your father - workaholic to an extreme, and a bit of a softie. Just big on his ego.

As an added bonus, he completely won you over for being the guy for Pepper after deciding that you weren’t some runt after all.

After the events of Ultron, Tony decided to take you in and take you as if you were his own, treating you like his little assistant. (As he wasn't comfortable with having kids just yet.) You were pretty young, Pepper had that argument too and was fairly backed by Happy, but Tony was all, ‘then best start them young!’ and all went his way, one way or another. You were a smart cookie, at least that’s what Tony said, Pepper added that, and Rhodey – who still didn’t want to force something on to someone so young. And thus, your life with the Stark-Potts couple would never be the same - for better or for worse.

After the Accords, however, things were different. Much different. Both Tony and Pepper were never the same even way before that, but the former looked like a hollow of a man he once was.

As much as Pepper had more rights over you, she didn't want to be unfair and cut you off from Tony completely, and thus, let you do as you please. Honestly, it hurt having to go back and forth between the two, seeing two of the strongest people in your life thread on thin ice. Try as you might, you even attempted to get the two together only to end up with nothing. Happy was there, at least, to make you sane and moving. Rhodey, who still scares you, keeps you in check and on your toes.

However, things managed.

Then a lot of things happened: Tony and Pepper finally patched things up, finally got married - you were Pepper's maid of honor, you were whisked to some Ivy League thanks to Pepper and Tony’s recommendations, Tony suddenly was whisked away to the stars to save the universe, some war FRIDAY relayed in Wakanda, and then half the population turning to dust. A week later, Tony came back - with new friends from different galaxies, you all moved far away – far away from the Avengers, Tony insisted you to help Pepper to keep you busy, Morgan was born, you finished university, and were working on a master’s degree.

And then... _Tony-_

God, just the thought of him - _what he did -_ still chokes you up. It hurt to hear from Pepper what had happened, to see her – the strongest iron lady you know and love – break into a million pieces, crumbling to the ground and disregarding every rule about grace and poise. Tony. He was like a father to you, the best and worst one you could ever ask for.

After his passing, you made it a point to keep his legacy alive, to ensure that it was protected at all cost - Morgan. 

You loved the littlest Stark with all your heart, like the little sister you wished you had. Ever since she was born, already, you vowed to keep her from anything.

She was Tony's legacy.

Well, one of many...

There was that kid from Tennessee, Harley Keener, whom you had the chance and pleasure to be acquainted with.

And then there was-

"Who're you?" a voice asked behind you, breathlessly, curiously.

Turning on your heel, you found a guy - brown hair, pale skin, average height, fit in build, looked like he was around your age - walking in, looking like he had run a marathon.

Scrunching your nose, not really like the way he was trying to piece who you were, you fixed him a questioning look. "I'm-"

"(NAME)!" a bubbly voice called behind you, causing the two of you to turn.

Eyes widening, they then relax, you then sagged in relief and all but ran towards the little girl, taking her in your arms.

"There you are! Where've you been, you?" you ask, tucking strands of hair away from her face.

Giggling mirthlessly, eyes twinkling with mischief, she replied. "Nowhere~"

You rolled your eyes at that, playfully. Her grin grows, eyes crinkling when her lips lift, exposing dimples.

Looking over your shoulder, you nearly forgot the guy behind you, hoisting Morgan up.

"Oh, I'm (Name)," you tell him. "but I think you got that already."

The younger teen looks from the brunette in your arms to you, the cogs in his head whirring. "Are you...?"

"Nope, I'm just a babysitter." Quick to dismiss his question, you shake your head lightly. "An on call at that."

"Ah," was the only thing he could say, not sure what to say next.

"Peter!" the girl in your arms says, a smile still in check.

"Morgan, hey." he walks up, about two feet away.

It was your turn to look between him and the brunette in your arms, fixing an inquisitive look as to the cogs in your head begin to turn - two and two adding up. You _did_ hear things from Pepper, Happy, and Tony. 

Like a light bulb moment, you pointed at him. "You're the Spider-Man, aren't you?"

First, he sputters, face morphing into a look of surprise, shock, and embarrassment which ends with his face flushing to the tips of his ears.

Little did he know that you knew long before his cover had been blown.

"Don't worry. Happy's not really that good at keeping a secret." You assure him. At that, Morgan chuckles. You chuckle with her, sharing a knowing look as you bump your noses together. "Well, more like, he's slipping."

"Or getting old!" Morgan chirps.

You share a laugh, again. This time, Peter joins in.

"Anyway, is there something or anything you needed?" you asked, remembering his sudden appearance, adjusting your hold on Morgan, who now was resting her head on the crook of your neck.

"Oh...I, uh, I was just..." he fumbles, fidgeting with his fingers as you stand there, patiently waiting for him to finish his sentence. "...um, I was told to come over...?"

Puzzled, your brows narrowed together. "By who?"

"Me." A voice booms, you all turn, staring at a dark-skinned man donning familiar colors. A taller man stands by him, almost like a shadow.

In the years under Tony and Pepper’s tutelage, months spent and having unlimited access to nearly everything that is related to the Avengers, you found yourself in contact with the new Captain America and his trusty companion, the Winter Soldier.

At first, it was quite intimidating. _They_ were intimidating. But soon, you found yourself warming up to them. They were like brothers, you adored them so much.

Suddenly, the room felt like there was purpose as the two men strode in, and you felt even smaller in their presence.

Just as you motioned to leave, Morgan pipes up, “Sam! Bucky!”

...

Over time, Peter became a familiar face in the compound.

Aside from helping clean up the mess that Quentin Beck and his lackeys did to the poor boy, he was also heralding in for his part with the new Avengers - Sam Wilson, now bestowed with the mantle of Captain America, with the infamous Winter Soldier, Sgt. James Barnes, as his right hand, much to the displeasure of _many_ governments.

Then again, who were they to decide what's best for this world when they knew nothing of the battles these brave men fought for? Who were they to decide who carries the mantle? It's not theirs, government-issued or not.

Also, in the past years of their hiding, and fighting off Zeemo, they've proven themselves countless times and earned the hearts of many. Whether they like it or not, they were the best choice to serve and defend the innocent.

For Peter Parker, physically 18 years old, filling in his spot for the team was _huge_.

He was in leagues with a whole bunch of other heroes – Hulk, Dr. Bruce Banner; War Machine, James Rhodes; Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff; Dr. Strange, Dr. Stephen Strange; Ant-Man, Scott Lang; Wasp, Hope Van Dymme; and off the grid were the Asgardians of the Galaxy, and Carvol Danvers, Captain Marvel. Just to name a few. Sure enough, there would be more heroes coming in, it’s only a matter of time after all.

It was a big world - universe, rather.

Eventually, the kid also grew on you, for many reasons. But in those many reasons, it also felt kind of weird - you _were_ three years older than him. Physically speaking.

 _He_ would have been 23, just three years older than _you_ , had he not been snapped away. Or blipped away. 

Yawning, you leaned back, stretching your arms overhead. Peeking back at your laptop, to your dismay you found that was still 10 in the morning, there was still a lot of work to do!

Groaning, you made sure to drag on said groan as you massaged the back of your neck. There were a bunch of emails to check, some invitations to decline, and one Thaddeus Ross to bitch about-

“Coffee?”

At the sound of the voice, you looked up and were met with soft brown eyes belonging to one Peter Parker.

“Peter, hey!” reaching for the cup, you wrap both hands around it, relishing in its rich aroma. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Having to face your laptop for hours' end, glancing up just barely with how slow your morning was, it really was. Taking a sip, you let the beverage warm your system and kick in, shoulders sagging. “and a savior.”

The corners of his mouth lift, eyes shining a bit, awkwardly shifting foot to foot. “W-Well, I know how much you work. And how much you love your coffee" he does, strangely enough, to note that you loved it black in the wee hours of the day with a bit of cocoa nibs.

"That I do, Petey, that I do."

He watches you take another sip, your eyes momentarily meeting your laptop screen before looking away quickly - nope! Here's your coffee break, take it.

"I see, uh, that you've been busy."

Sighing, you lean against your seat. "Kinda. Sorta. But, yes."

A little while after you first met, you made sure to properly introduce yourself to the lad, keeping in mind that he was an Avenger and that he'd see more of you now that you worked for Stark Industries, _and_ the Avengers.

"Even though you should be…” he glanced away, words failing him.

“I should be…?” you picked up on the end tail of his sentence.

Gulping, his gaze suddenly drops, looking around helplessly. You sat there, worried, taking sips time to time.

It might be his sixth sense – aptly dubbed as his Spider-senses, but he seemed to know exactly how much you loved your coffee. That, or he was really observant.

“Peter, are you okay- “

“Writing!” he suddenly bursts out. “You like writing, right?”

His eyes land on the books on the side of your desk, and a framed article you had written years back for TIME magazine.

Following his gaze, causing you to turn in your seat, you can’t help the soft expression on your face. “Ah, that.”

Using the heel of your foot, rolling forward, you reached for the frame then rested your still warm drink between your thighs fingers smoothing the corners. “Funny story, Tony made me write it. Pepper gave me the idea.” The article was basically about questioning Thaddeus Ross and the Accords and if it was really pro-government and pro-hero at the same time. “Mind you, at the time, things had just been rocky with the whole mess of the Avengers, Tony and Pepper were not in good term. Writing this had been the closest I got them to speak again, because of how I had written it and its effects.” Memories of Pepper giving snide remarks at people who talked shit to you, rebutting gracefully, and Tony, wisecracking any troll who messed with you online. Those were fun times. Messy, but fun times. As you spoke, Peter quieted down, eyes never leaving you as you spoke. Looking at the article one last time, you set it back on your desk before picking your drink and taking a sip. “ _So_ , yeah. I do. Love writing, I mean. “

“And haven’t you thought of doing that instead?”

Noting his implication with a hum, you continued. “Instead of handling hero-related antics, right?”

Instantly, his face flushed, expression mixing up as he jumbled on his words. “N-Not that what you’re doing is wrong or anything! I-It’s just…you can-“

“Relax Peter!” You laugh, hand raised to calm him. “I know what you mean. It’s just that,” pushing yourself back, you swayed a bit in your seat “this is my job now, something I’ve been doing for a while and one I enjoy. Stressful as it is, it’s still fun. At the very least, I’m still writing. Plus, I get to be with you guys! So, that works, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” breathing returning to normal, he nods, replying breathlessly. “yeah, yeah, yeah. T-That’s true.”

Tilting your head, seeing that he wasn’t fully satisfied with your answer, you humor him. “Given the chance, I _would’ve_ been in the writing field. Who knows? Writing as some underground slob, some hermit, or rise amongst the ranks of those high-profiled writers, or for TIME...”

Smiling wistfully, you were just about to take a sip again when it dawned to you. “Oh, what are you doing here, anyway? Do you have a meeting with Pepper?”

“Miss Potts- oh. _Oh_ , no!”

“Did you wanna see Morgan then?”

“No, no!” he was getting more panicked, which was worrying. Putting down your coffee, you brought both hands to your desk and pulled yourself in, the desk separating you and Peter. He was muttering something under his breath, something you didn’t catch.

“Petey?” ducking your head, for a closer look at him, getting a closer inspection of how hazel brown his eyes actually are.

“U-Uh…” he gulps under your gaze. "...um..."

“Hey, (Name), I need your help with someth-“a new voice pipes in.

The two of you turn, (E/c) eyes widen at the new visitor, instantly, you were on your feet and running towards him.

“Harley!” engulfing him in a hug, you laugh mirthlessly at his presence. “Oh, my god you’re here! How are you? What are you doing here?”

Dang, you forgot just how tall he was!

“Uh, I’m supposed to work on my grant with Miss Potts,” he says, almost carefully staring from you to the lad behind him.

“Ah, yes,” you nodded, snapping a finger and pointing at him in realization. “that was today. _Unfortunately_ , Pepper’s busy with something. Fortunately,” you tilted to your side, hands clasped in front of you then pointing index fingers at him. “ _I_ can lend you a hand.”

Harley smiles at this, especially at your dorky dramatics, you grin back toothily.

Then you remembered that you weren’t alone.

“Oh! Where are my manners? Peter, this is Harley Keener, one of Tony’s boys.”

“You make it sound like I'm a booty call.” Harley grumbled beside you, making you snort and elbow him playfully.

“Well, Tony has a way of calling people and it rubs off pretty easily when you’re around him a lot.”

The taller lad rolls his eyes – playfully, used to your language and overall attitude as a reminiscent of one Tony Stark. Peter, who was still standing there, looks dumbfounded between the two of you, unsure what to do before you called on him.

“Sorry Peter, but I have to attend to Harley. Guess I’ll see you around?”

“U-Uh, sure…yeah.”

Hooking your arm around Harley’s you both walked out, but not before grabbing your still warm coffee from your desk. “Thanks again for this, Petey, bye!”

“He seems nice,” Harley comments, once the two of you get to the elevator.

“Yeah, he is.” You nod, sipping your coffee. “Now tell me, any updates on that crush of yours?”

At this, Harley’s face burns as the elevator doors open.

...

As Pepper’s assistant, you were basically tasked to help make Pepper’s job easier. As PR, at the same time, you were tasked with dealing with the Avengers’ publicity and ensuring that they look good and handling whatever the media throws their way. Because you were practically raised by Pepper, and the one and only Tony Stark/Iron Man, schooling the media was child’s play to you. Plus, it was really fun dealing with famous people who weren’t super-powered.

Still, as much as you enjoyed your job, you especially loved the quirks that came with it. One of the obvious being that you get to hang with _the_ Avengers. Half of them – who were Tony’s faction during the Civil War bullshit, you grew up with, and the rest just grew on you later.

It was a Friday when you found yourself swinging by the training grounds, looking for Bucky or Wanda with a bag of cheeseburgers to share with and some papers. However, the floor seemed to be empty. Just as you were about to call for F.R.I.D.A.Y. (the AI), you found yourself slipping on some liquid, falling backward with your arms flailing in the air, smacking a nearby tray holding a pitcher and glass.

Faster than you could react, a blur was by your side, a firm grip on your shoulder, and with his free hand, easily caught the tray, the pitcher, the glass, _and_ its contents. All before you could even blink.

“W-Woah…” you breathed, feeling your heart beating wildly against your chest. That could’ve been one nasty accident where you could’ve been wet, hurt, or both!

“(N-Name)! Are you alright?” asked your savior, making you blink at him.

It was Peter.

“Peter…” you said, almost to yourself.

Effortlessly, he set the tray aside, his hand still on around your shoulder, making you feel his strong arm around you.

“I-I’m sorry about that, must’ve tried to do some physics trick but ended up failing and all…” he replied, looking at the water on the ground.

“Ah,” you responded, getting the idea. Surprisingly, with a crinkling sound, you were still gripping unto the cheeseburgers and the papers- no, wait, they’re gone.

Turning your head around, you searched for those papers – which probably should be on the ground from the way you threw them up from the slip.

“Here,” Peter suddenly appears in front of you. Upside down.

“Woah, this is cool,” you remarked all wide-eyed, taking the papers from him, watching him bend over the ceiling to drop to the ground. “Seeing your abilities up close and personal.”

“I-I have other abilities, too!”

“Yeah, I know. You have superhuman strength, enhanced agility, and a super brain.” You list off, heading to the counter to drop the cheeseburgers and papers Pepper assigned you to send around. "No, wait, Happy mentioned it was something else..." scrunching your face, you ransacked your brain for it. "Er, what was it...oh! Peter tingle, right?"

He nearly tripped on his feet but caught himself instantly. "Spider senses! It's called 'Spider Senses'!"

"Ah, is that what it's called?"

That makes Peter sigh, almost frustratingly – like he was to throw a tantrum then and there. He really is a child, you thought.

“I’m teasing you, Pete.” You laugh, leaning against the counter, watching him seemingly deflate, ears slightly red. “But, if you don’t mind me asking," folding your arms behind you, you carefully approach him "can you just break it down to me just how your Spider Senses work?”

Caught off guard by your question, Peter puffs his cheeks. “Um, err…” he shuffles, scratching the back of his neck as words fail him.

Circling, you hop on the counter behind you, patiently waiting on him.

Seeing just how genuinely interested you seemed to be with his powers, it excited him a bit. You weren’t being pushy about it either. In fact, he’s seen you quite a handful of times, and you were always sure to be nice and welcoming, treating him Peter first, Spider-Man second. There were only about a few people who were genuinely interested in how his abilities worked really, one of them was Ned, then there was Mr. Stark, then there was Sam, and then Bucky. And then, you.

“So, um…I’ve got these senses.” You nod encouragingly. “And, uh, they help me be keenly aware of my surroundings and help me react.”

“Meaning, you have times ten the reflexes?”

“…kinda?”

Recalling the almost incident earlier, it was amazing to know just how quick he responded before the inevitable. “That’s cool. I didn’t know spiders could do that.”

“Y-Yeah…” he could only reply, noting how pleased you were with his explanation, how your beating calmed him-

“If this were a comic book, then what you have would probably be the most overpowered ability of all. Still, thanks for telling _and_ trusting me.”

Clearing his throat, he slowly approached you. “So, uh, what brings you here?”

“What, I can’t be here?”

“N-No- th-that’s not-“

Really, he was so cute with the stuttering and all.

“Are you always this awkward around people? Or just girls?”

You really reminded him of Tony Stark with your charm and quips.

“You’re kinda difficult to approach, I guess?”

“ _Oh_ , so, I’m a science problem now?”

Peter’s mouth gaped at that, at a loss what to say next. Which in turn, caused you to laugh, head pulled back.

“You’re cute, Peter Parker.” Hopping off the counter, you reached out to pinch his cheek before turning back to fetch the paper bags. “I brought burgers for Bucky and Wanda, sadly, they’re not here, wanna eat them?”

…

Ever since the spider bite, life for Peter Parker was never the same. And it was probably a given to those who wielded great power, and now, he was one of them.

However, he would never imagine that _because_ of that very spider bite, he’d be in leagues with people he’s admired for a while – the Avengers.

His life would forever change the moment Tony Stark sat in his apartment living room, chatting casually with his aunt, interrogated, and basically recruited him to his faction. Unofficially, that had marked his joining the Avengers.

But it was the Battle with Thanos months later that he was officially _an_ Avenger, which later resulted in him dusting away for five years, then he came back for another fight for his life and the universe, they won but at the cost of Earth’s mightiest heroes. Months following after that were spent in constant fear and mourning that he tried to fight with his teenage life.

Funny thing was, just when he thought life was going his way, there’d always be something to nope him out of it. Mysterio, for one, hijacking his Europe trip and revealing his identity to the world.

For a while, his life was sure to spiral out of control and he’d be torn from his life. Nope.

 _Because_ he was an Avenger, not only was he backed by his colleagues, the government – what good half of it anyway, S.H I.E.L.D. and good civilians who were recipients of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’s kindness, the fear of his civilian life was protected and secured.

He just never expected that with becoming an Avenger, he’d have the chance to go places, experience new and exciting things, still be himself whilst growing up-

"Alright, little munchkin, open up!"

-and then there was meeting you, (Y/N) (L/N).

By blood, you were Pepper Potts-Stark’s niece-in-law, but by paper, you were practically her daughter/sister, more so as her trusty assistant.

Physically, you were three years his senior. Had the Snap not happened; however, he’d have been three years older than you. Still, he towers over you despite being the ‘littlest guy’ – as Sam would put it.

Using his heightened hearing, he followed after until the voices were closer, and he was standing by the doorway to the kitchen where _you_ were.

You weren’t alone though. No, sitting by the counter, happily watching and smiling at you was little Morgan Stark.

It's a first for him to see you like this - in more casual, comfortable clothes, especially in shorts where he can see your legs. He had to pull himself out of it as he remembered that Morgan was there, singing some song as you sang with her.

It was a Disney song, he realized, from that one movie.

While the two of you were having a mini-concert, the smell of something being cooked filled the kitchen.

“Pasta,” he thought to himself, aloud.

“Peter!” the littlest Stark called from the counter, struggling to hop down, before you helped her down, tiny legs barreling towards him.

Anticipating her approach, he knelt to catch her in his arms, twirling as he entered the kitchen – the smell growing stronger.

“H-Hey, (Y/N),” he says to you, standing straighter.

Offering a smile, you turned back to check on the pasta sauce you were making. “Hey Peter,”

Unsure of what to say next, he lets Morgan play with his hair before coming up with a reply. “F-Fancy seeing you here,” he said lamely.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Realizing his mistake, he nearly drops Morgan, sputtering words. “T-That’s not- No! U-Um,” you were calmly stirring the pot, body turned to him, letting him know that you were listening. “I-I…It’s just, I’m not used to seeing you so casual…I guess?”

“Ah,”

_Seriously, why was he so lame?_

“It’s my day-off.” You say simply, switching the fire off. “And I make sure to use up my time keeping sane with the help of the world’s most adorable little girl, isn’t that right, Morgan?”

"Working too much is evil!"

"Sometimes I wonder where and how you learn these things," you mumble laughingly, head shaking. "must be a Stark thing."

He laughs with you in agreement. Morgan was scaringly too smart for her own good, clearly from her Stark genes.

"Most definitely a Stark thing," he agrees with you, laughing, eyes glued on your form as you hunt around the kitchen for something. "Need some help?"

"Ah, yeah." Pointing at the pot of sauce, you say. "Can you be a dear and bring that to that table over there?" with the same hand, you bring it back to the small dining table behind you, where plates and utensils sat. "Oh, and be sure to use mittens," you add, producing two kitschy kitchen mittens - one that was an embroidered goldfish, of some sort. "I'm not sure just how strong you are, but you can't be _that_ strong against heat against metal."

"Ha ha, a science joke, I see." he says, taking the handle with both hands.

"It's not rocket science, silly." Holding a bowl full of pasta, you hastily grab a pair of tongs, before the two of you were walking towards the dining room. "Okay, there we go. Oh, just put it right here, Petey." you point at the empty coaster next to the pasta bowl, where he carefully lays it down. "Great, thanks!"

Hands on your hips, you admire your work, clasping both hands together before rubbing. "Okay, lunch is set! Now, where's my little Morgan?"

...

It was almost too cliché and overused at this point, but nobody that deny that charity galas were almost always a selling point to earn the trust of the most esteemed, high-profile, and probably the snootiest people in the world- all of which, were Tony's words that he had told you years back.

You hated these kinds of events, but again, they sold off to the rich and the famous. And they were a great way to rub elbows with just about anybody.

Never leaving Pepper's side, the both of you welcomed in guests after guests, receiving warm regards from ambassadors, warding off leering looks from power-hungry businessmen, laughing with nobles and socialites, and being graced by esteemed guests. Honestly, you had to give it to Tony and Pepper for bearing with these lot, just being in the same room with them and inhaling their pricey perfumes made you feel ten times older.

When all was said and done, you rushed towards where the Avengers were - all of which were dressed to the nines, all looking like literal gods in a sea of mortals.

Laughingly, half of them seem to enjoy the festivities, some looked bored to death (but came for the chance of exposure), some looked uncomfortable, and mostly seem to just enjoy parading themselves.

It was easy to spot Peter Parker among them, being - as Sam put it - the littlest guy because the rest of the women were in heels.

Meeting your gaze, he lifts his hand into a tiny wave. Giggling, you winked and gave him a peace sign, before turning to a waiter offering drinks. Taking a flute from his tray, you were unaware of the boy's eyes locked on you as you clung to Pepper's side, wearing a polite smile that illuminated your face and the dress you were wearing.

It's just...You look pretty in that dress. Like, _really_ pretty. Maybe prettier than usual

Well, you were always pretty to him whatever you wore - may it be office wear, casual wear, even a bean bag, but tonight, that dress made you look mature, exquisite, and divine. The makeup on your face highlighted some of your features quite well - not too much, but enough to really emphasize your cheeks, your lips, your eyes. And your hair was in a simple style but enhanced your look. Overall, again, you looked really pretty.

Too engrossed in his stare, he nearly jumped in place when Shang Chi came into his field of vision, smirking knowingly down at the young boy.

"That's an intense stare you got there, wanna go talk to her?" the newest Avenger asked, golden eyes alight with life.

"U-Uh...?" he sputtered, feeling the blood rush to his face, just as he saw your face light up - if possible, it made the whole place shine brighter - when Morgan ran up to you. Her dress was a poofier and lighter version of yours.

"No worries, little brother," whispered the man, smirk still in place as he watched you nuzzle Morgan's nose with yours. "I'm not telling."

Okay, he felt screwed.

...

With all the glitz and glamour that filled and surrounded the life of one Tony Stark, it takes a certain amount of temperament and training to turn one so thick-skinned and fluent in the art of socializing from the regular folk to the nouveu riche to the beau-monde. Despite careful years of watching, observing, absorbing, and taking things into action, the results were the same: it was pretty exhausting.

You didn’t know how Tony did it, nor do you want to know. I mean, there were years of alcohol and therapy. Not to mention, his hands just itching to tinker.

Pepper fared in the best way she could. Seriously, she was the personification of the phrase, ‘grace under pressure’.

Well, maybe until she has someone she can finally rip apart.

Having excused yourself from the scene, you desperately needed to be away from all the glitzy fanfare – too much of it might actually render you insane.

You find yourself in what seems to be a lounge area. There were plants, paintings, some comfortable sofas. Music could be heard from the gala nearby, but here it came as a gentle thrum and hum.

“How’s the party going?” someone asked.

You whipped your head around, searching, finding an old man sitting by one of the sofas.

Putting on a smile – tired, but polite, you say. “Well, it’s still going,” he laughs at that. “Starks’ legacy continues to fill the night. Hopefully, it’ll end well for business _and_ pleasure.”

He laughs again, a gentle, hearty laugh. “Well, that’s a relief. And quite the expectation.”

“Well,” you didn’t mean to sigh so heavily, brows raised slightly. “it is what it is.”

Nodding at the older man, you were just about to find a balcony only to stop in your footsteps.

Slowly, very slowly, you looked back to the lone soul sitting by the sofa – sharply dressed, small, frail, but his posture said otherwise, as did his smile.

And his eyes.

Suddenly, you realized _why_ that old man with astoundingly baby blue eyes with a kind smile looked familiar. You were careful in your approach, as to not bring any attention. "Mr. Rogers?"

Familiarity radiated off his features as he took you in, the same familiar smile on his face. "Hi, (Name),"

"Hi..." you said back in awe, unsure what to do, or say.

"Wow, you're so big now." Baby blue eyes take you in, so warm and threatening to swallow you whole. "And you used to be the littlest thing."

Memories flash of a younger you meeting the famed war hero, Tony by your side. His dashingly, boyishly handsome face. Walks around the compound or the park with his gentle hands in yours. Warm hugs after a bad day at school. The sad look in his eyes when he left the compound. Regret, guilt, and sadness during Tony's burial-

"Come sit by me," he invites, patting the spot next to him.

That seemed to snap you back to your current time, forcing your legs to move. One step becomes two, then three, until you were next to him, (e/c) eyes not leaving his now small and frail form. A far cry from the hulking teddy bear of a man you're used to.

Gentle music from the gala filled in the silence, which just dragged on.

Steve smiled, simply smiling by the silence, blissfully knowing your state of confusion by his presence. But he was content, to say the least, to share the silence with you.

This man, Steve Rogers to many, known as Captain America to all, but to you – and a select few, he was more than that.

In spite of what happened – Ultron, Sokovia, their Civil War, Thanos, this man meant a lot to you, had a special place in your heart that rivalled only to Tony Stark.

"You know,” you said slowly. “Pepper never blamed you...after _everything_ that had happened."

Turning to you, his eyes widened slightly. "Did she now?"

You nod, earrings dangling with you. "It was inevitable, ever since Tony was kidnapped and Iron Man happened. Since the moment those two fell in love, and the Avengers came to be." Breaking into a short laugh, you added. “Maybe even before you and I joined in the mix.”

"Did you blame me?" he asked you, suddenly, his baby blue eyes, though faded with age still held so much emotion. 

That question would've been easier to answer then - after months of seeing Pepper and Tony's relationship in turmoil, Pepper in tears, Tony's PTSD, Rhodey's injury, Happy's added stress, the death of the closest thing to a father you'll ever have - but now, all things considered, and with Tony's annoying way of rubbing off you, you knew your answer now.

"No. I don't think I could." You reply, smiling softly at him. "Plus, you remember his speech, right? 'Part of the journey is the end'? Somewhere, deep inside his clusterfuck of a brain, he knew that his death was something he feared very much yet knew would put things into perspective."

"You are Tony's girl alright,"

You scoff, ducking shyly, comforted by his words. "Adopted, maybe."

Lifting your head, it felt like you were young again, meeting Steve Rogers for the first time. Except this time, there was no Tony by your side, but you took comfort in knowing that the phantom comforting chill running down your spine was him.

Steve smiled, one that reached his eyes.

"It's so good to see you again, (Name)."

"Me, too." Eyes misting as you broke into a huge grin, it really felt like you were a kid again.

And it that moment, he couldn't help but feel the same.

"Would you care to indulge this man with a dance?"

"I would love to."

…

(E/c) eyes wandered about to all the couples that had gathered on the dance floor, humming to the beat of the music – jazz, was it? Maybe something gypsy-like? Do they even allow those kinds of music to be played? Soft jazz, maybe.

The music was gentle, soothing, _fitting_ for the event. It was enough to make your heart settle, after a long, engaging, and rather exciting night.

And It was probably far from over.

From where you stood, the second floor balcony that overlooked the whole area, a rather grand view as though you were some lord. But no, you just needed a breather, to slow down the night that was far from over.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, rather loudly to catch your attention.

Looking over your shoulder, you find that it was Peter. "Y-You...uh, you look really nice, (Name).”

Lips quirked up, you reply. "Thank you, Peter. This is all Pepper. And, well, Maria." After much thought, fingers smoothing over the fabric of your dress, you added, with a pained smile. "And Morgan. Wanda. Sam. Bucky." You tick their name one by one with your fingers.

"Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes?" he was stood next to you now.

"They convinced me to come, after much protest. _Morgan_ picked my dress, really."

"You sound so out of place." His brown eyes search yours. To be at the receiving end of those eyes of his, such big, kind, and warm eyes, made you feel all sorts of funny.

"Oh, trust me, I am. This isn't my scene, y'see, also because I don't really go to these kinds of events. I'm more used to being behind the scenes, working back, or doing my homework while everyone partied." A certain memory roused from the back of your brain, making you chuckle sadly. Having sensed this, thanks to this spider senses, Peter looked up. "Tony," shucks, the mention of his name still hurts. "he would annoy the hell outta me, Pepper, too," she chuckled, almost garbled by the emotions thick in her throat. "but both never forced me if I didn't want to. Sometimes, they'd finish up extra early and bring home junk food to keep me company." Finishing with a sigh, she looked out the dancing couples before her eyes landed on a familiar strawberry blonde woman effortlessly elegant in her own right, ethereal under this light, but ever so heartbreakingly lonely and painful to look at.

Peter followed your gaze, swallowing thickly at that.

"Sorry you had to hear that sob story," you says, in an attempt to lighten the mood, quirking into an easy expression.

Downstairs, the music peaks up, a new song being played.

"Well, to make up for it, do you want to take your mind off it with a dance?"

That made you jump, turning to the younger boy, who was red in the face but had that look of determination in his boyishly handsome face.

You had to chuckle at that, heartily. "Wow, _you're_ good. But okay."

…

Bucky didn't like it - that little punk was crushing on (Name). _Bad_.

Thing was, she was pretty oblivious to this. Bucky didn’t like that either. As much as she was Stark's girl, when it comes to things concerning her, it just passed off like the wind. Or maybe water. No, oxygen. Point is, she'd never know unless it was pointed out.

“If you look any harder, the kid’s head might combust.” A voice says next to him, belonging to a familiar blonde – Sharon Carter.

The Winter Soldier made a noise in his throat, eyes cold. "I don't like the way that kid's looking at her,"

"Make you think of Becca, Buck?" Steve asks, humor in his tone.

“Shut up, punk.”

“Well,” Sam appears, elbows on the railing, faint smile quirking his lips. “they _are_ kinda cute.”

Well, fine, they _are_ kinda cute together.

“Good luck trying to tell her that, though.”

But he won’t say it out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell/scream at me on my [Tumblr](https://alicemitch09writesdump.tumblr.com/)


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